Inside a dimly lit, empty bar, two men sat at the counter while the bartender stood stiffly behind it, his face tense with fear as he stared at one of the men. A single empty stool separated the two men. One of them, a long-haired man, had his head resting against the counter, surrounded by empty beer glasses. The other sat motionless, his vacant stare fixed on the bartender — cold, empty, and lifeless, like the dead eyes of a fish.
"Is… is something wrong, sir?" the bartender finally asked, eyeing the hollow-eyed man sitting at the counter.
"Something wrong?" The man's blank stare suddenly shifted into a friendly smile. "Nah, not a thing. Why do you ask?"
"No, no… it's nothing, forget it." The bartender scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "So, what can I get you tonight, mister?"
The hollow-eyed man grinned and gave a lazy slap to the back of the long-haired drunk slumped next to him. "Ten more stubbies for my buddy right here."
"Sure. Anything else?"
"Yeah, actually…" The man leaned forward, flipping the menu around and sliding it toward the bartender. "There's something on here that caught my eye, but I don't know how to spell it. Here, take a look."
"Alright, let's see."
The bartender lowered his head, squinting at the menu — it was a picture of a burger.
"Sir, that's a burge—"
But before he could finish his sentence a sharp sting hit the back if his neck he tried to raise his head up but he couldn't the sharp object kept digging deeper into making his eyes go white " ga...gah gaaaa " he tried to scream but he couldn't as he vomited blood on the man suit
" shhhhhh it's fine it's fine " the voice of the strange man said , then everything went blank
The strange man had dug a corkscrew as the bartender lowerd his head
Getting up, he wiped the blood in his suit and smirked as he made his way behind the bar counter. "So, Kishibe," he called, grabbing a bottle, "Big sis is a lesbian, huh?"
"..."
The long-haired man didn't answer, just raised his head and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. His tired eyes flicked toward the dead bartender slumped nearby. "I don't wanna talk about it."
He then gestured at the corpse. "Who's that?"
No response. Instead, the man pulled a bottle from the cabinet, popped it open, and poured a glass.
Kishibe lifted a hand. "give me the whole bottle."
"You sure?"
Kishibe snatched it out of his hand without a word and started drinking straight from the bottle.
The man just shook his head with a crooked smile. "Well… as you probably guessed, Quan's going private. That leaves just the two of us. Which means our job just got a hell of a lot worse."
Kishibe gave him a blank look, waiting for the point.
"We've been assigned to hunt all the pain cultists lurking in tokyo" he said, grabbing the bartender's body and tearing the shirt open.
The bartender's spine was exposed — his ribcage split open from the back, flesh peeled like some grotesque art piece.
"Blood eagle," Kishibe muttered.
"I've hunted twelve cultists of the Torment Devil in the past five hours," the man said casually. "And based on what a few others let slip, there's probably a hell of a lot more."
Kishibe tilted his head. "How'd you get info out of 'em? They're into pain."
"it's complicated " he muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a worn photograph of what looked like an old hospital.
"Chances are, this is their main hideout. Every female cultist I've run into so far had these precise, messed-up surgeries done on their lower parts, and the male ones had this—" he pointed at the bartender. "It lines up perfectly with my theory they're holed up somewhere like this." He tapped his finger on the photo. "Anyway… you coming with me, or are you just gonna sit here and suck on that bottle till you pass out"
Kishibe put a hand in his face then stood up making the man expressions brighten ' thank god ' he thought following him